Stella Barnes Whore ❤️❤️

About Leeds

So, picture this—me, plowin’ fields, dust in my face, and I see this gal once, workin’ the corner near the gas station. Bold as brass, skirt shorter than my patience! I’m like, damn, she’s out here, rain or shine, no tractor to hide in. Respect, kinda. Made me happy, seein’ her hustle—don’t judge, I ain’t no saint! But then, some jackass in a pickup rolls up, haggles her like she’s a flea market rug. Pissed me off! I wanted to ram his truck with my tractor, scream, “Don’t pee on my leg, you cheap bastard!” Whores deserve better than that crap.

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After the art fiasco, I needed a breather. I headed to the Thames Path. The river was glistening, and I’m just walking, taking it all in. But then, I see this guy trying to fish. He’s got all the gear, right? But he’s just standing there, looking bored outta his mind. I’m thinking, “Dude, you know it’s not a guarantee, right?”

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